


Your Eyes Are Like Starlight Now

by rooonil_waazlib



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, it's finals season and bucky's not happy about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5519045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooonil_waazlib/pseuds/rooonil_waazlib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://stuckysecretsanta.tumblr.com/">Stucky Secret Santa</a>! My gift is for <a href="http://chrisevanis.tumblr.com/">chrisevanis</a>, who requested a coffee shop AU. I couldn't help making it a little Christmassy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Eyes Are Like Starlight Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fairiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairiel/gifts).



Yawning, Bucky hunches a little more over his laptop, staring hard at the diagram of a cell in mitosis on his screen. It’s unlabelled; this is one of the questions that he expects to be on the final, but for the life of him he’s not sure he’s ever going to get it completely right. Groping blindly at the table, he picks up his coffee cup and sips at it, grimacing. Cold. He should get up, go order another, but he has to get this diagram correctly labelled before he can take a break. Anyway, his sister, Becca, who works here, will probably be over in a few minutes with a refill.

Stupid biology. He should have taken this class two years ago—it’s required in order to graduate in the Faculty of Science—but he’d put it off. He’s going to be a _physicist_. Biology is so not his speed.

Outside the window, snow is coming down thicker than ever. Maybe he’ll get snowed into this café, and won’t be able to get to his exam tomorrow morning. Maybe it’ll get cancelled altogether. Maybe he’ll—Jesus, he’s screwed. So, so, _so_ screwed.

Switching over to Facebook, he opens up a chat window with Clint and types off a quick message: _i am in literal hell biology is the worst will you please kill me_.

  _Biology is the best do u need help_ , is what he gets in reply, and he considers saying yes, only he’s pretty sure that if he does and Clint comes down here, he’ll never hear the end of it.

_no its fine i'll survive i guess_ , he types, and pauses his music as Becca walks over and swaps his mug for a fresh one. Pulling out his headphones, he leans back in his comfy armchair and runs a hand through his hair. “Kill me,” he says to her, “Please. Just—” he grabs his own face in both hands, then mimes jerking it sideways as if to break his own neck—“Quick and clean. I can’t do this anymore. Please, Bec.”

She laughs at him, flicking her dark ponytail over her shoulder and putting the empty mug down. Then she reaches forward and takes his face in both of her hands, but instead of killing him she gently massages her thumbs into his eye sockets, her fingertips sliding into his hair and giving his scalp a little scritch.

Bucky lets out a little rumbling groan. “You’re the best, Bec. You know?”

“I know,” she agrees. “You should take a break. D’you want anything to eat? One more mocha and I’m pretty sure you might explode. We’ve got a pretty good soup on today—curry chickpea.”

“Sure, yeah, sounds good.” He slouches even further into his chair, his eyes closed, but after a second she lets go of him. Peeking open an eye, he whines high through his nose as he watches her walk away.

He’ll go back to work for now, just until Becca brings him some soup, and then he’ll have a break. Flicking back to his cell diagram, he shifts his notebook on his lap and starts to draw, singing along quietly to the music coming from his headphones.

“ _I’ve got to get home_ ,” he sings, pushing his earbuds out of the way with his pencil. And that’s when it occurs to him.

He looks up and his eyes meet those of the guy at the next table over; the very, very blue eyes of the gorgeous guy at the next table over. The guy grins a little and sings, “ _Oh, baby, you’ll freeze out there—_ ”

Bucky stares at him. He hadn’t been having a duet with his iPod—he’d been having it with this beautiful specimen of humanity. This blond tall Adonis of a man, wearing a shirt that’s far too small for him.

He looks around. Several people in the coffee shop are looking at them. Becca has her phone out, clearly taking a video. “Uh,” he says.

The man nods at him, rolls his hand, encouraging him to continue. For lack of any better idea, he licks his lips. “Um. _Say, lend me your coat—_ ”

“ _It’s up to your knees out there—_ ”

Becca gives him a thumbs-up. “ _You’ve been really grand_ ,” Bucky manages.

“ _Thrill when you touch my hand_ ,” the guy responds.

By now Bucky’s mouth is working without him. He looks over at Becca, who’s flat-out ignoring the person in front of her till, trying to order. “ _Why don’t you see—_ ” and then the other guy starts, overlapping Bucky’s voice—“ _How can you do this thing to me?_ ” the guy gets up, walks towards Bucky, holds out his hand—“ _There’s bound to be talk tomorrow—_ ” abandoning any hope that this is going to be a normal day, Bucky takes the man’s hand and gets to his feet—“ _Oh, baby, it’s cold outside—_ ”

His life is a fucking musical. This is _bizarre_. The man spins in, caresses Bucky’s cheek with the backs of his knuckles, still singing. He’s _really_ pretty, though, and smiling at Bucky like he’s never had someone play along with his madness. So, with his free hand, Bucky reaches up and takes the hand still cupping his face, singing back.

Pretty much the whole café applauds when they finish their duet, Bucky and this man still holding onto one another, their faces closer than two strangers’ faces really ever should be. Bucky can hear Becca whooping, but he’s pinned under this man’s gleeful stare.

“So, uh,” Bucky tries, but he has no idea what to say after that, and anyway—the man brings his hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. “Uh, okay.”

“That was amazing,” the man says, “You’re amazing. I was sketching you and then you started _singing_ for me. I think I might be in love with you. Can I buy you a coffee?”

Bucky stares. “You were drawing me?”

The guy goes suddenly—beautifully—pink, his smile fading. “Oh. I mean—sorry. Yeah. I need another four sketches for my life drawing class. But I can—I can throw it away, if you want.”

Feeling about as flustered as this guy looks, Bucky tries not to think too hard about the fact that they’re still holding hands. “Um—no, it’s fine, that’s fine,” he manages.

“Great!” The smile is back, big and dazzling and Bucky can’t help but smile back. “I’m Steve.”

“Bucky.”

Steve shakes the hand that he’s still holding. “Good to meet you. Let me get you another coffee, and—yeah, I’ll show you the sketch.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://rooonil-waazlib.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
